


Afghanistan

by BlueEyedArcher



Category: Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: Afghanistan, Blood Shed, Blood and Injury, Bombs, Car Bombs, Chris and Miles were there, Chris saves Miles, Flashbacks, M/M, PTSD, Pre Asylum Chris, Pre Asylum Miles, Suicide bombers, Violence, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-24
Updated: 2017-10-24
Packaged: 2019-01-21 20:03:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12464888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueEyedArcher/pseuds/BlueEyedArcher
Summary: Chris Walker was stationed in Afghanistan and Miles Upshur was a spunky spitfire Journalist causing trouble in his base. Even worse, Chris was responsible for the spastic brunette who had a nose for trouble like an old bloodhound. Which in a war zone, isn't a good thing.





	Afghanistan

**Author's Note:**

> I realized Chris and Miles were both in Afghanistan and not quite sure about the time frames but I imagine them both being there about the same time and crossing paths. Of course Miles wouldn't remember him after it being so many years and the last thing he imagined was running into the man who saved his life in Mount Massive Asylum and now trying to take it back.

**  
** “Little Pig!” That was the last thing Miles was expecting to hear in this god forsaken place as he was trying to squeeze his way through the narrow gap between the barricade of office furniture. He felt something strong grab him by the shoulders and wrench him back into the narrow corridor. He came face to face with the creature that growled out the far too familiar phrase, his green eyes fixed on the mutilated form of the massive  _man?_ He wasn’t really certain he could call what was left of this creature a man at all. The facial wounds which were self-inflicted were hard to look at. Grotesque and putrid with the scent of rotting flesh. Yellowed teeth bared through the mouth piece that kept what was left of his lips apart. **  
**

 

The brunette groaned and cried out as he was shaken roughly and he felt his body go flying through the air, his back busting through the glass of the overhead windows looking down onto the lobby below. A scream barely left his lips before he crashed down to the ground below with a loud thunk. Hitting his head on the hard tile floors. Those two words echoing in his mind. Pulling at threads of the past that he hadn’t expected to find him here of all places.

 

 

_ **.......................** _

 

 

 

“Little Pig! What did I tell you about sticking your nose in places it’s not wanted?” The big burly military man stormed towards Miles with a scowl etched across his hard sun crisp features, stomping around this desert wasteland of a country, it was hard not to become a crispy critter in the process. Even Miles of all people was forced to relinquish his jacket in lieu of a long sleeve button up with thin material and the sleeves shoved up to his elbows. Still the sweat came off him in buckets and he felt sympathy for the armed men and women who wore the thicker heavier gear and carried all that equipment, trudging the rough terrain day and night on the front lines.

 

The nameplate stitched into the MP’s uniform read  **WALKER**  on it. The man had a strong square jaw and brown eyes that reminded Miles of the kind you’d find when staring at a Saint Bernard. The man was big like one too. Broad muscular shoulders with a chest just as defined. The material of his uniform barely containing the structure of his stature. He was a good head taller than Miles which made it hard to get eye to eye with him. Leaving the brunette standing eye to chest, craning his head up to meet the larger man’s pinched gaze. His eyes narrowed from behind his sunglasses, meeting the brunette’s own tinted shades protecting them from the harsh rays from above.

 

“Aw, come on Chris. You know me, since when do I ever listen to what you say?” Miles teased with a smile playing on his lips. Everyone in the MP’s unit was terrified of the man. His sheer size and temper made him unpredictable, like a bull in a china shop. Yet Miles always managed to get under the man’s skin in a way nobody else could and instead of absolutely losing his shit, he found he enjoyed the little spitfire reporter. He was interesting and one of the few people gutsy enough to talk back to him.

 

“You need to learn how to soon or else your ass will be outta here Upshur.” Chris warned, a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he placed his hands on his hips and straightened up. Making himself even taller and more formidable in appearance than before and forcing Miles to tilt his head up even further to see the man through his sunglasses.

 

Miles scoffed at the warning and waved his hand in the air lazily. His gaze changing from the large MP in front of him to glance back at the heavy duty concrete walls that protected the base from enemy attack. He knew it was for safety reasons but it made the encampment feel like a prison. The dry desert surroundings didn’t help much either but he had to admit, the base had a killer view. The mountains in the distance were nice but he wasn’t here for nature shots or hiking.

 

He needed hard footage of the front lines. Something he had been struggling with for the past month or so on obtaining. No units would take him or any of the other reporters out. They were confined to the base for some reason or another and Miles was getting antsy. The only shots he got were of a burnt up Humvee when he came in from another encampment nearby. It was left on the side of the road, mostly obliterated by an IED on the hump of the roadway along with several other vehicles the locals drove up and down the thoroughfare. Some of them even had older bullet holes in them from previous attacks by the Taliban.

 

He turned his eyes back to the MP as he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Then take me out with you on patrols. I’ve got a job I need to do and I can’t do that cooped up in here.” He adjusted the camera hanging around his neck, the strap adding to the unbearable heat of his skin, rubbing across the dry canvas of flesh exposed to the sun and sands and harsh winds.

 

“Not until top brass approves. It’s too dangerous right now.” Chris spoke firmly.

 

“Well duh, Walker. It’s a war zone. I sort of already knew the risks when I signed up for this assignment.” His words were laced with a mixture of sarcasm and frustration. This wasn’t his first rodeo, nor was it his first time getting shot at on the front lines. He wasn’t the type to run the other way and hide like a coward. He wasn’t the type to kill either and the only shooting he ever wanted to do in life was with his trusty camera.

 

He wanted to expose the truth to the people, not help cover up the corruption here on the other side of the tracks where government officials went unchecked and honest men and women were duped into following bullshit orders. He didn’t blame Chris for wanting to play it safe, he was a loyal soldier and was dedicated to his duties to his country even if his superiors only cared about the balance of their own back pockets and the variety of votes they’d stuff up their asses come time for the next election. It was sickening but he gave in for the day, letting Chris have his win if only to spare him from burning his stack and keeling over in this shit hole of a sand dune. “Fine. You win. I’ll head back to my quarters.” Miles sighed, glancing up at the MP whose hard features dropped in surprise, expecting to get more fight out of the journalist before he pinched his brows together in suspicion.

 

“Whoa, whoa whoa. Hold up. Since when do you give up like that?” Chris demanded, gripping Miles by his shoulders with his massive hands, fingers splayed and covering the majority of the space. The heat of the day and the increased heat of the larger man’s palms was unbearable, causing him to squirm in place to wiggle out of their grasp. Chris was like a walking furnace on a good day. On a day when the temperature was shooting out of the devil’s ass crack, he really didn’t want to be that close. He was hot enough as is, and not in a good way. “Did the sun finally scramble your brains, Upshur? Need to hit the infirmary or something?”

 

“Or something is right. You guys need to call for a swimming pool. It’s way too damn hot out here.” Miles quipped with a heavy dose of sarcasm.

 

Chris tilted his head, his eyes narrowed on the considerably smaller male. “You signed up for this Miles and yet you can’t take a little heat?” He cracked back.

 

Miles rolled his eyes. “I think you need an ice bath. Anyone who likes this damn weather has got to be part reptile.” He sighed and pulled out of Chris’ grasp. This time the MP let him and watched him shift the camera strap and start to turn away. Wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand as the MP stood, hands resting on his hips, watching the male walk back towards the barracks, slowly shaking his head in disbelief.

 

 

 

 

##  **_~Later That Night~_ **

As night fell on the compound, the patrols changed over shifts and many of the occupants were turning in for the night. Getting a bit of shuteye before their assignments the next day. Miles laid on his cot, the room had two soldiers and another reporter in it all tucked away in their tent. It was a makeshift set up to accommodate them which Miles didn’t mind but as the setting sun dipped behind the horizon, the unbearable heat became cold when compared to the extremes beneath the summer sun. But Miles was comfortable, being used to these temperatures back in DC.

 

Silence settled over the night but it only lasted a couple hours before the distant explosions of war sounded. With the endless expanse of terrain, they could hear gun fire from miles away and the booms of car bombs. It was a jarring thought to be honest, sleeping so peacefully in a war zone. It was a wonder if anybody could ever return to the states in one piece, rather it be physically or mentally. Anyone who could sleep soundly with songs of chaos playing in the distance was somebody that Miles didn’t want to be on the bad side of. He was just starting to close his eyes when there was a pause in the explosions and silence resumed when the entire compound was rocked with a jarring eruption of it’s own.

 

The quake hit him before the sound ever registered in his brain. The two soldiers in their tent were on their feet with weapons in hand before he could even sit up and look out at the darkness. Troops were rushing around in the darkness with their weapons in hand and the entire base lit up with flood lights. Alarms started up alerting everyone to the disruption if the explosion hadn’t. A few seconds longer and miles was rushing out behind the troops, leaving the other reporter in the tent. His camera in hand, already adjusting it to work in the harsh flood lighting, he was snapping shots left and right to get the footage he needed. Even taking video snippets here and there.

 

Chris had rushed over to the scene, catching a glimpse of Miles as he bolted past him. Flames rising up outside the gates, devouring the remains of a Haji vehicle and the suicide bomber within. The whole car was rigged to blow upon impact but the heavy duty concrete walls were sturdy enough to repel the attempt. The soldiers on patrol at the time had cleared out of the way to avoid getting hit. As soldiers cased the area, ensuring no other hostiles were within range, Miles has squirmed his way through the barricade and took photos of the wreckage as they attempted to put the fire out.

 

He was in the midst of snapping on rapid fire when a big meaty hand snatched him up by the back of his shirt and jerked him back to the other side of the line and practically dragged him inside of the compound. He didn’t need to look up to recognize the monster size hands on him or the ease of strength it took to haul him away like a rag doll. It was his favorite MP with his signature sour look on his features that were quickly overcome with anger. “What the **hell** is wrong with you? Do you _want_ to get shot?” Chris snarled at him like a pissed off bulldog. The veins bulging out of his neck as the hand gripping Miles’ shoulder squeezed painfully tight with the MP’s rising anger at the mischievous journalist. The camera was nearly forgotten in his hands as he realized the predicament he was in. The soldiers around them scattered to do their jobs, making certain to avoid the irate Walker and his unwary target.

 

His anger was justified, Miles knew that well. Chris was tasked with keeping the people of this base safe. Including the visiting journalists and reporters so running out to the scene of a car bomb without thinking of his own welfare was an incredibly stupid idea. He didn’t even consider the fact if something did happen to him, it would fall on Chris as being responsible. Yet Miles couldn’t think of anything to say in return. He wasn’t the kind to get scared at the first sign of confrontation but him and Chris sort of had a working relationship going on. He wouldn’t really call it a friendship but there was something there. At least Miles thought so.

 

His fingers fiddled with his camera and he just let the MP bark at him angrily, railing him about how dangerous and stupid he was and how he could have gotten killed. It was the same old lecture he was used to but this time it made something sour twist inside his guts. It was unpleasant and felt heavy. He blamed it on the sight of the burning corpse within the charred husk of a sedan and the dark fumes of smoke rolling over the walls and blowing past them.  _God, it smelled awful._

 

He cursed in his mind and shifted in place, nodding along to Chris’ furious words until he was allowed to leave the scene or more like escorted off of it and sent back to his quarters to wait with the other reporter present. Who was still hiding within the safety of their tent. A different soldier was with him and he could hear Chris barking commands at the men in his unit to hurry up and finish cleaning up the mess. They doubled up on security and Miles was on house arrest for the rest of the night and most of the morning as per the MP’s commands.

 

 

 

 

##  **_~Several Days Later~_ **

Miles was still no closer to getting the shots he wanted and was stuck with the other reporters aimlessly wandering the compound. He took apart his camera piece by piece and put it right back together again, cleaning the sand and dust out of it and keeping it functional. He did it so many times, he felt like one of the soldiers he shared a tent with as they repeatedly tore down, cleaned and built back up their rifles and sidearms. Most of it was out of boredom. He got several shots of the troops and how they relax in between shifts or assignments. The most common way to pass the time, he found out accidentally from his bunkie was masturbation. He kept his camera out of sight during those times and often went for walks to avoid the awkwardness.

 

He would occasionally come upon Chris only to divert his path and go somewhere different just to avoid another instance with the MP. He was in no mood to be railed today with another series of face spitting lectures. He was taking a few photos of a soldier who had taken on a stray kitten during one of his assignments and was currently playing with it with a piece of grass. Watching it pounce. Another soldier had adopted a stray pup and was stretched out in the shade with the little mutt curled up against his belly, both of them sound asleep. The man’s hat covering his face from view.

 

“Technically they’re not supposed to bring back strays.” Miles nearly jumped out of his skin when the baritone voice sounded behind him. He was on his feet, whirling around to come face to chest with the very man he was avoiding. Camera in hand, he wasn’t expecting to be sought out. “We let the guys keep them because it’s something normal that reminds them of home. Helps them forget about the bad shit outside these walls.”  

 

 

“Why aren’t they supposed to have them?” Miles asked, glancing back at the men who are so at ease with their furry companions.

 

“It's too much trouble to take care of them on top of the soldiers themselves and if something happens to their caretaker, you’ve got a bunch of unsupervised strays wandering the camp.” Chris leaned his back against the wall of a nearby building, folding his arms over his chest. “But I’ve seen a lot of guys who become a lot more aware out there when they know they have a little buddy relying on them to come back. Men who were on the brink of death after being shot up pulling through miraculously just to return and take care of their dog or their little kitty because without them, they had nobody. These men gain a whole new reason to live because of these strays. One that is right in front of them and not a _‘what if’_ overseas.”

 

Miles considered these words, watching the men and their little pets. It was funny now that he thought about it. Everyone here knew they’re not allowed and yet nobody says anything to them keeping them out in the open. Nobody wants to see somebody lose their lifeline or their will to remain in one piece. Some of these strays were the link that kept these men sane here in a land where everyone wants to kill them.  

 

He glanced down at his camera and took a few more shots of them, the idle moments of play and downtime with their precious companions. “Come on Upshur. We’re heading to town to do a quick patrol of the area and talk to the locals. You can get some snapshots of the truth there. What those people have to go through.” Chris said softly, his hand resting gently on Miles’ shoulder as he steered him towards the front gates where the Humvee waited.

 

 

 

 

 

##  **_To Be Continued...._ **


End file.
